


Takes one to know one

by Trojie



Series: Fics for SPNVerse Challenges [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Crimes & Criminals, M/M, Minor Ruby/Sam Winchester, Organized Crime, Past Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 12:38:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's got a dirty past, Dean's using some dodgy methods, and Jody Mills and Viktor Henriksen are their respective longsuffering partners. </p>
<p>In this installment, the not-so-good old days come knocking on Sam's door and Dean has to tap his most delicate, dangerous, and valuable source of information. And unfortunately that's a euphemism.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Takes one to know one

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the genreswap challenge at SPN_verse. I maaaay have gone slightly over the required wordcount! Big thanks to Yalu for casting her eye over this at VERY short notice (ilu, bb <3)

A casefile comes across Dean Winchester's desk, and he barely even glances at it, already up to his eyeballs in stiffs. But because he's a good officer of the law, despite what some of his superiors think, he does glance at it. And -

_John Doe, thirties, lacerations, Satanist paraphernalia-_

'Looks kinda familiar, doesn't it,' says Henriksen, leaning over the edge of Dean's cubicle. He's got two cups of godawful police coffee in his hands - he drops one in front of Dean. 'I mean -'

'Goddammit, Henriksen,' Dean says, snatching the coffee up and burying his face in it. 'Shut the hell up, right now.'

Henriksen lowers his voice. 'Hey, man, don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to start a witch-hunt here -'

'- except you are -'

'I'm just saying. Kind of looks like her MO, doesn't it?' Henriksen pulls across the file and flicks out a couple of the crime scene pics. Dean's stomach is pretty much made of iron these days but being un-shockable doesn't stop the angry bile from rising in his throat. Because yeah, it does look like _her_ MO.

_'Looks like_ doesn't mean _is,_ Henriksen. And anyway, what's your point, if this isn't a witch-hunt? We've got work to do, man. Proper work. We're so fucking close to a breakthrough on the Milligan kidnapping. This,' and Dean sweeps all the photos back into the folder, snaps it shut, and shoves it back into his in-tray, 'is just a distraction. Let one of the others take care of it. Give it to Jo and Charlie, they deserve a decent case for once.'

'Suit yourself,' says Henriksen, shrugging and sipping from his own coffee. He makes a face at it. 'I'm just saying, you might want to call your brother.'

***

Dean doesn't call his brother. Not for this. He calls his brother's partner instead.

'Jody Mills,'

'Tell me you've got your eyes on him right now,' Dean says. He ignores the way Jody sighs down the phone at him. 

'So that John Doe report got as far as you, then. Dean, it's not - it's not what you think.'

'So what is it, then?' Dean knows he's using the 'bad cop' routine but he also knows it rolls off Jody like water off a duck's whatever, so he can't be bothered moderating his tone.

Jody's voice gets quieter, like she's not alone. 'I'm telling you, Dean, we've been working double shifts on this Masters thing for months. I been pouring him into bed at 5am the past three weeks and locking his shitty apartment door behind me. The only time I don't have my goddamn eyes on him is when I'm trying to catch a wink of sleep myself. He's been working himself to the bone. He hasn't had _time_ to get mixed up in anything, I swear to you.'

'You've seen the photos?' Dean asks, rubbing his hand over his face. He really hopes she's right. He hopes this isn't what it looks like, but he's seen crime scenes like that before. And maybe Sammy never did anything. Maybe Dean got him to see reason before it was Sam's fingerprints Dean was lifting from bloody smears on wallpaper, but they never did catch Ruby, now did they? 

Sam's been clean for five years, but a clean addict is still an addict. Dean can't take this chance.

'Yeah, I saw the photos. But Dean, I've been a cop a long time. Longer than you, buddy, and I know you got a hairtrigger when it comes to your brother but he's _my_ partner and I'm telling you, whoever it was, whatever it was, he's not mixed up in it. Not this time. At least, not yet.'

Dean was almost relaxing, almost reassured. He freezes again. 'What do you mean, not yet?' he demands.

'I mean, anything crosses my desk crosses his too. You think he's gonna let this lie?' Jody sighs again, and it's tired. 'Yeah, he made mistakes. He let you down. So more than _anything_ he wants you to trust him again, Dean. The second he gets in here, sees that file? He's gonna want to put it right.'

'I do trust him,' says Dean, startled. 'That's not -'

'Yeah?' Jody says drily. 'Then why was it me you called?'

***

'We're taking that case,' Dean says to Henriksen at lunch. 

Henriksen just smiles easily at him. 'Guess it's a good thing I already put in a request for all the archives on it then, isn't it?'

Henriksen isn't Sam (nobody could be), but Dean's mighty grateful for him, sometimes. 

***

Sam drives. 

The file is spread out all over the passenger seat - the pictures that make him grit his teeth, the (very few) details they have about the vic, the results from the lab test that came back positive for methamphetamines. Fingerprints that are partial matches. Long dark hair, just one strand, that isn't the vic's. 

His phone is on the seat too, ripped out of the hands-free kit. 

He has five voicemails. Fourteen text messages. Eleven missed calls. He hopes his battery runs out soon. They can't chase him forever. And this isn't going to take long. His badge is in the glove compartment. So's his service-issue weapon. He's carrying cuffs, Mace, and his own Taurus (legally carried concealed, he has the permit and everything) in his civilian clothes.

His phone goes off again, and he ignores it. This really isn't going to take long.

***

Dean didn't actually go to bed last night, so when Jody's call comes through at 6am, he answers it on the first ring. Henriksen looks across the table at him briefly and then back down, but he jerks his head back up and raises an eyebrow when Dean starts yelling. Dean ignores him.

Jody stays calm. 'That's what I'm telling you, he's gone,' she repeats herself.

'What do you mean, gone? He just took off? Turn the lowjack on his car on!'

Dean can pretty much hear her roll her eyes. 'You think I'm an idiot? You think _he's_ an idiot? He took goddamn leave! Signed all the forms, dotted every _i_ and crossed every _t_ and nobody thought to stop him! He's not in a patrol car, he's in his own vehicle. And he's turned the GPS on his phone off.'

'Goddammit.' Dean slams his hand into his desk in frustration. 'Okay, I'll deal with this.'

'The hell you will. He's _my_ partner.'

'He's my _brother,_ Jody. He's my responsibility.'

'So we should be working together.'

Dean knows he isn't going to win this one. Part of the reason Jody and Sam work so well as partners is they both have that same streak of mule. It's like arguing with a brick wall. 'Fine. Henriksen and I are going through the cold-case files.'

'I'll be up in half an hour.'

Jody hangs up without saying goodbye. Dean drops his phone in his pocket. 

'Jody Mills is coming up to help you with these,' he says to Henriksen, shrugging his jacket back on and checking his weapon and badge are in their right places out of habit. 

Henriksen looks up at him with that calm look like he knows Dean's about to do something dumb and he'll have to pick up the bits afterwards. 'And what are you gonna do?' he asks.

'I'm going downtown,' Dean says through gritted teeth. 'Club Heaven should be open by now.'

'No,' says Henriksen, still calm. 'That's a bad idea.'

'I need info. The Miltons have eyes and ears everywhere. I can't put out an APB on Sam without getting him into serious shit - but I need to find him, fast and quiet.'

'You think it'll stay quiet? If you tell someone Sam's gone off the rails again? I know you have history with the Miltons but Winchester, seriously, they're a mob family, legit business cover or no. Just cos you and Castiel -'

'You better not finish that sentence,' Dean threatens him, and Henriksen just shakes his head. 

'Sure. I'm just saying. They sell information. You think they won't sell this?'

'I have to take that chance,' says Dean. 'Henriksen, I don't have a choice.'

'And if Captain Singer or Director Harvelle come looking for you?' 

Dean just looks at him. 

Henriksen sighs. 'You better promise me to only use your kicked-puppy face for good and not evil, Winchester. Get out of here.'

***

Sam doesn't know where Ruby is but he knows how to find her. 

You get a nose for it, for where to find what you crave. That's why he was always such a good narco officer. Why he _is_ such a good narco officer, or … is this the point in time when he should admit he's probably not going to have a job after this?

Doesn't matter. He's got the scent now, and he needs to do this. He's jonesing for it bad, this fix - has been since he saw the file and the photos, since Jody told him his brother called, since he heard the name _Ruby_ in the office again for the first time in five years and his traitorous fucking brain started drooling. 

He needs to score. One last time to pay for all.

***

Dean stalks into Club Heaven. It's dark inside, as usual, and he ignores the things going on around him, the shadowed people and the pounding music and the dirty-looking dealings, as he heads towards the tech booth and knocks on the door.

Anna opens it. Of course. She gives him a cool look. 'Dean,' she says. 'Here to see my brother?'

'Not if you mean Michael,' Dean says flatly. 'Where's Cas?'

'I know what you're doing,' Anna murmurs. 'With Castiel. You're playing a dangerous game, Dean.'

'Your brother's a grownup,' Dean retorts. 'He can date whoever he likes.'

Anna just stares at him. 'That's not what I mean and you know it. If Michael finds out ...'

'If he finds out what?' Dean asks, playing dumb. 'Pretty sure he already knows Cas bats for the other team.' He knows Anna deserves better than this. Even if they didn't have history, he owes her - she's playing a pretty dangerous game herself, knowing about him and Cas, covering for him and Cas, rather than telling her big brother Michael - but she's a Milton. Dean would be a damn fool to assume she isn't playing a double game, hell, a triple game, a quadruple game … you can't trust a Milton.

'I can't cover for you forever.' Anna folds her arms.

'Cas is out back of the bar, yeah?'

Anna sighs. 'See you around, Dean.'

***

Cas puts down the box of Corona he was toting and comes in for a kiss, and Dean, like he always does, takes advantage of it and feels like an asshole for enjoying this when it's all for show, all for the benefit of Raphael and Uriel and anyone else who might be looking.

'Mmm, hey,' says Dean, smiling at Cas when he breaks the kiss. 'You got a minute?'

'Hello,' says Cas gravely, but with that sparkle of something in his eyes that you might think was horniness. Dean knows better. 'I'm on my break - good timing.'

'You wanna maybe get out of here, then?' Dean asks. 'If you've got time?'

Cas looks over at Raphael, who rolls his eyes and shrugs. 'You'll be good for nothing if I don't let you, won't you,' he says, grouchily. 'Just make it quick, you pair of lechers.'

'We can do that,' says Dean, winking. Raphael scowls and throws a bar towel at him.

Cas drags Dean back to his room, two floors above the bar. He pushes Dean through the door with both hands on his shoulders and Dean knows more of Cas's millions of brothers and sisters are lurking and spying on them, so he lets out the groan that wants to come out anyway and says, 'Fuck, baby, s'okay, just hang on -' and then they're through and Cas takes his hands away.

'I heard about Sam,' he says in a low voice. 'I assume that's why you're here. I haven't seen you in weeks.'

'Do you know where he is?' Dean asks, sitting down on the bed as heavily as he can and loosening his tie, running his hands through his hair. He knows he's got next to no time, needs this intel _now_ if he can get it, but it's bad enough tapping his most valuable source for info like this - he definitely can't blow their fragile cover in the process. So he has to do this the method-acting way. 'You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't have to.'

'I'm your informant,' Cas says, coming over and helping mess up Dean's hair. He presses his mouth softly to Dean's jaw, sucking softly to mark, something that'll be visible just long enough, but fast to fade. 'You need information. Word on the street is that your brother is going after a killer.'

'Ruby?' Dean catches Cas around his waist and pulls him into his lap, rucking up his shirt gently. He forces himself to leave the belt alone, as per the terms of their agreement. This is a business arrangement, and Cas's marks on his skin, Cas's hands in his hair, they're just the cover, that's all. Dean's hickeys are collateral damage.

'The name has been circulating. It seems she might have returned, after all this time.'

Dean pulls back to look Cas in the eye. 'Where?'

Castiel shrugs, pulling at Dean's collar. 'No hard rumours yet. Waterfront seems likely.'

'Keep your ears open,' says Dean, and starts to make the noises that any listeners will be expecting. Cas is riding his thigh and they're both hard, groaning and moaning and panting and okay, it's for show, but Dean can't help storing the image of Castiel's serious face and bitten lip in his memory for later, when the reason he came here is just a bad dream.

'I will,' Cas whispers. 'Be careful. If it is Ruby, she is dangerous. Oh, Dean, _Dean,'_ he adds loud and high. 'Dean , please, I'm so close -'

They fake it to a finish neither of them gets. Cas drags his hands through Dean's hair one last time and Dean nips at Cas's bottom lip.

'We good?' Dean asks softly.

Cas is frowning, though. 'I think I should come with you,' he says.

'Cas -'

But Cas is already opening the door and heading out. Dean trails behind him as he grabs his overcoat and exits through the bar.

'Castiel, your shift -'

'I'm taking the afternoon off,' says Cas, pulling Dean up close to his side. 'If no-one objects. I have … unfinished business with Dean.'

Raphael eyes them drily. 'You _are_ owed leave,' he says. 'But Castiel, don't make a habit of this. And be back in time for the evening rush.'

'Don't worry, I'll look after him,' says Dean as cheekily as he dares. His heart is hammering in his chest. Behind the bar, Anna is giving him a long, cool look, and he's sure he can see the door to Michael's office open, just a crack. Just enough to be listening. 

Trouble's brewing for Dean here, he can smell it a mile off. But he doesn't have time to deal with it now, so he lets Cas hustle him out of the bar with his hand on Dean's ass, and forces his head back into the game.

***

Sam's nose leads him to a warehouse, half-wrecked and home to a colony of starlings that shriek and chatter almost constantly. He checks chamber on his Taurus, checks he's got everything he needs, and takes a deep breath before scouting for a way in.

It's dark inside, the light keeping through broken windows strangled by plants and dust. There's a bitter, chemical smell in the air that Sam tastes in the back of his throat and remembers more clearly than he wants to admit.

'Long time no see, Sammy,' says someone smokily from behind him. 'To what do I owe the pleasure?'

Sam turns and doesn't bother even trying to hide the gun in his hand.

'Or did you get my message, maybe?'

'A corpse isn't a message, Ruby.'

She pouts prettily at him, stepping up close enough that he can smell her perfume entwining with the salt-and-metal tang in the air. He tries so hard not to breathe it in, not to fall into old habits. 'But I took so much care,' she says. 'Wasn't it pretty?' She smiles. 'Did you figure out who he was yet? I picked him special for you. Ohh, he was a bad man. Remember how we used to punish bad men, baby?' She runs her hand down his chest. 'I need you back. We've got so much work to do.'

'You're insane,' Sam says, pulling back from her touch.

'Sammy-baby, I'm the sanest person you'll ever meet. And I know I've been gone a long time but I'm back now. We can go to work again.'

'What do you mean?'

'You don't actually think you've been doing any good, do you? All this _war on drugs_ crap, plodding around all knotted up in rules while people like the Miltons run this city? While they buy and sell people under your noses? Pretending they're clean and respectable? Your brother's fucking one of them, you know. What a hypocrite.'

'You shut up about my brother,' Sam growls, keeping the gun trained on her chest, not that she seems to care.

'You know you can do better than this,' Ruby purrs, stalking up to him again. 'You know you could clean up this town. With my help. I can get you what you need, Sam.'

'I don't need that,' Sam grits out.

'Maybe, maybe not,' Ruby shrugs. 'But you still want it. You still want it all.'

She leans up and kisses him then, and Sam's lost for a second, drowning in taste and memory, just long enough for her to wrench his gun from his hand.

***

Dean calls his partner as soon as he and Cas make it back to his car.

'Henriksen, tell me you and Mills have something.'

'As a matter of fact we do, partner,' says Henriksen tinnily down the phone. 'What do you want first?'

'Location,' Dean snaps.

'Can't give you much, but you're probably looking at the shipping district -'

'Dammit, Henriksen, that's like ten square miles!'

Beside Dean, Cas pulls out a cellphone.

'We're doing our best here, okay?'

'Sorry, yeah, I know. Okay, what else you got?'

Henriksen clears his throat and reads out in a sing-song voice, 'Prints at scene are a partial match for one Ruby McAlastair. So I was right.'

'Yeah, yeah.'

'John Doe has been identified as a Mister Brady, no known address, known to the police up in Palo Alto for a whole run of nasty things but let's just summarise with 'dealing smack to kids' and move on.'

'Just like last time,' Dean mutters.

'Bingo,' Henriksen drawls. 'Mills wants me to tell you she's lost a couple of her informants the last few weeks - never made it to rendezvous, that kind of thing.'

'No bodies, though?'

Jody comes on the line. 'She'd have been establishing herself,' she says. 'Let the gangs and the families know she's back in town, send a few threats. Probably stealing their product to sell herself, too.'

'And then the big Satanic mess?'

'She was sending a message even we couldn't miss,' says Henriksen. They must have Dean on speaker. 'To your brother.'

'Something he would know was her,' Jody says bitterly. 'She's taunting him.'

'She's tempting him,' Henriksen corrects. 'She's laying it all out for him. Punishing the wicked, all the smack he can take -'

'Are you goddamn sure you can't get me a better location?' Dean interrupts desperately, peeling the Impala out of her parking space (thank fuck for plain-clothes jobs - driving his patrol car's like driving a pig with a whip and spurs) and pointing her nose dockside. Henriksen's right, and Dean hates that he's right, but it's the truth. 'Sammy's walking into a fucking trap!'

'The old salt-packing warehouse on Madison,' says Cas, shoving his phone's Google Maps app under Dean's nose. Dean pushes him away - he doesn't need Google Maps, he knows this town like the back of his hand - and down the phone Jody says suddenly, 'Is someone there with you?'

'Is that Cas?' Henriksen asks like he already knows the answer. 'Goddammit, Winchester, you can't just -'

'He volunteered, okay,' Dean snaps. 'And it would have blown our freaking cover if I'd fought him over it.'

'Wait, Cas ... Castiel Milton?' Jody doesn't sound pleased.

'Yeah, and he just got me a location on my brother, so unless you two have something better to offer me, you better just let me do this, okay?'

'Where?' Jody demands. 'Did he say the old salt plant?'

Cas pulls Dean's phone out of his hand. 'You shouldn't be driving while on the phone anyway,' he informs Dean. '1546 Madison,' he says to Jody. 'We will be there in ten minutes - from the precinct I would estimate it would take you twenty.' He pauses, listens. Dean strains himself but he can't quite make out what Jody's saying. 'I'm sure Dean would rather you _didn't_ come,' Cas says after a moment. 'But it would give us a tactical advantage if you did. Yes. Good. Goodbye.' 

He snaps the phone shut and tucks it back in Dean's pocket. 'They will be about ten minutes behind us. Henriksen was threatening to bring a full Armed Offenders squad. When I hung up they were still debating it.'

'You should stay in the car,' Dean says. 'You're a civilian, I don't want you to get hurt.'

Cas looks at him measuredly. 'I assure you, I'm more than capable in a firefight. Do you have a spare weapon?'

Dean will have to use his service pistol. He doesn't like it, it isn't the weapon he prefers, but rules are rules. 'My Colt,' he says, feeling weird about this. 'In the glove compartment.'

Castiel opens it up and pulls out Dean's custom Colt - pearl handled, engraved scrollwork, and checks chamber expertly. Dean's not thinking about what cause Cas might have had to be in a firefight before. 'Very nice,' Cas says. 'Your own, I take it?'

'My Dad gave it to me,' Dean replies, yanking his eyes back to the road. 

Cas's expression, in Dean's peripheral vision, is solemn. 'I will take good care of it.'

Above them, the tall, depressing buildings of the dockyard are looming into view. They're a couple minutes off hitting Madison and then it's a straight second or so until the salt-packing plant. Dean forces himself to breathe normally. 

'So I'm thinking we go with the old 'rush in and yell 'Freeze!' plan,' he says, joking.

'The layout of the warehouse is fairly open plan,' Cas agrees. 'A lot of the internal walls were removed if it could be done without causing structural damage - the owner was briefly in talks with a housing company who thought they could turn it into a block of open-plan apartments.'

Dean squints into the rear view mirror. 'How do you know that stuff?'

'I have my uses,' Cas says blandly. 'Pull over here. We can walk the last distance - better than your engine note announcing us.'

Dean glares, but pulls over. 'So, rush in and yell?'

'It will suffice,' Cas agrees. 'Shall we?'

***

Ruby jams the gun up under Sam's chin. 'You've changed,' she says sadly. 'You used to be so strong and brave. You used to believe in me. Used to love me.'

'I used to be a _junkie,'_ Sam says, feeling the steel of the gun barrel catch against his throat as he swallows.

'And they all still think you are one, don't they,' Ruby says softly. 'You ran straight out here to catch little old me, and I bet you didn't tell anyone. I bet you think you're the Lone Ranger, don't you. And you know what? All your little friends, all the people you love, the ones you think love you back, are sitting there thinking, _he's gone off the rails again, just like we always knew he would_.'

'Shut up.'

'They think you're coming back to me. They're always gonna think it. So you might as well, Sam.'

'Just shut up and kill me already,' Sam growls. 'If that's what you're gonna do then do it, otherwise -'

Ruby rolls her eyes. 'You've got no cards in your hand, kiddo. You came in here off the clock, 100% civilian. There's no 'otherwise'. You were going to shoot me and take the consequences, weren't you? So _brave,'_ she drawls. 'You think that'd redeem you in your big brother's eyes? Murder for a good cause? How's that different to what I'm pitching you?' She slides in even closer against Sam's body, jams the Taurus into the soft meat under his jaw.

'You're wrong,' Sam grits out, and grabs the gun. 

'That's it, baby,' she says softly, but her grip is like iron and she won't let go of the pistol. 'Kill me, kill yourself, we'll be the Sid and Nancy of your sad little town.'

Sam's other hand is scrabbling in his pocket. 

'It's the best option you've got after you ran me down like a starving dog,' she points out. 'Heroic move, Sam, but a goddamn dumb one.'

***

Dean can hear voices inside the salt-packing plant. He doesn't like the light levels, he doesn't like his sightlines, he doesn't like anything about this but he catches the words _kill yourself_ in a voice that isn't Sam's and he just cannot take the risk. He catches Cas's eye and motions for him to go left, and slides through a door that's wedged open on weeds growing up through the tarmac outside. 

Inside the first thing he sees is Sam, looming in the dark and frozen, stock-still, and as Dean comes around, circling around the walls, ducking between shadows, he realises why - because a girl, little and dark-haired, has a gun on him. 

'- smart move would be to accept what you want,' she's saying. Dean recognises her from grainy security camera footage and mug-shots - Ruby. 'You keep fighting your nature, Sam. It's not healthy. We wouldn't be alone, either. Revolution's coming, baby. We got a leader waiting in the wings, and he really wants to meet you. You wanna be on the right side, don't you? The winning side?'

Cas is sneaking round the perimeter too (like a pro) - he's on the opposite side of the room to Dean. And if Dean's time-sense is right then Henriksen, Jody Mills and whatever cavalry they ended up deciding to bring should be here soon. But all that's secondary, strategic. Dean's more caught up on the immediate moment - on his brother, on that Taurus and on the way Ruby's hand isn't even slightly shaky.

Sam swallows - Dean can see his throat work against the muzzle of his own goddamn gun - and says, 'Somehow I don't think your idea of the 'right side' and mine agree.'

Ruby smiles and cocks the gun. 'So this it then?' she says. 'Is this where we say our goodbyes, Sammy?'

Sam moves just slightly and catches Dean's eye across the room. Dean's trying to work out the best angle to get a shot off - wondering if he can wing Ruby without hitting Sam - when Sam moves like a snake, knocking the gun out of Ruby's hand and snapping his cuffs around one wrist, spinning her and getting the other wrist up and behind her back and cuffed, before she can do a thing to stop him. 'No,' he says, hard, into her ear. 'You can say whatever you like, but you have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say ...'

Dean holsters his weapon and motions Cas to do the same while Sam reads Ruby her rights. He's up to the bit about attorneys when Jody, Henriksen, and the SWAT team bust in through the door.

***

'What do you think she meant about a leader?' Dean asks later that night, over beers around the archive-boxes back at the precinct. They're packed fairly tight around the table - Jody's barely let Sam out of her sight since they carted Ruby off to lock-up, and Henriksen couldn't glare hard enough to make Dean ask Cas to leave, so he's still here, pointedly not looking around. He knows why people are suspicious of him. 

'Dunno,' says Sam. He shrugs. 'Could've just been yanking my chain, y'know?'

'I don't think so,' Cas puts in. 'I've been hearing things,' he adds, but trails off without adding any extra detail. 

'Whatever she meant, I think we'd all better be on our toes,' says Jody, draining her beer. 'And I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm beat. Winchester, you heading home?' The look on her face says he'd better be. Dean kind of thinks it's cute, the way she mother-hens Sam, not that he'd ever say it to either of them. 

'Yeah, I guess,' says Sam, stretching and getting to his feet. 'You need a ride?' 

'I'm gonna hit the road too,' says Henriksen after a second. 'Good job, everyone. See you tomorrow, Winchester. Bright and early, as always.'

He gives Dean a significant look as he leaves - Sam smirks, Jody just fixes him with her best momma-bear stare and nods. Dean realises they're all deliberately leaving him alone with Cas. 

'Uh, so, you want a lift home?' he says after a moment. 'I seem to recall you needing to get back before the nightshift.'

'I'm already late,' Cas says, shrugging. 'But you're right. I should get back. At least now perhaps Uriel will stop accusing me of being celibate.' He smiles, just a little flirty-dirty, and Dean wishes like always that this thing between them was real. 

***

Someone watches Sam Winchester get pretty much walked to his door by his partner. 

Someone watches Dean Winchester kiss Castiel Milton goodbye outside Club Heaven in a secluded-but-visible-from-three-different-vantage-points spot. 

Someone is watching Ruby McAlastair as she's processed. They take notes.

Someone is collating a lot of data. Data on cops. Data on Miltons. Data on a lot of things. This town is just ripe for the picking.

**Author's Note:**

> TO BE CONTINUED ...


End file.
